


Safe, Forever, In my Arms

by KilLinggames



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec isn't 100 percent human, Angst, Burning alive, Dark!Everyone, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Graphic mentions of gore, Or shadowhunter, Otherworldly Creatures/Monsters, Real MCD, Ritual Sacrifice, Sort Of, Temporary Character Death, dark!Alec, dark!Maryse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KilLinggames/pseuds/KilLinggames
Summary: This isn't anywhere near as fluffy as the title implies."Alec. It's time." Alec's body immediately goes tense at those words. He thought he’d have more time."Wha-wait, now?""Now. You know what to do." Maryse clicks off the phone.------------It's time for Alec Lightwood to disappear and let the Other take his place. The Family each offers a sacrifice, to be burnt in a ritual fire to fuel the magic that allows them to move on to the next plane/dimension/whatever.Ancient, more otherworldly changelings sort of.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 16
Kudos: 63





	Safe, Forever, In my Arms

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very sorry for this. 
> 
> But apparently not sorry enough.

It’s been quiet these days. Nothing at the institute but routine demon hunts. Alec feels pretty much at peace for the first time in a really long while. Tonight, he and Magnus are just having a quiet night in. Alec loves their dates all over the world but sometimes, he thinks that these nights, when they’re both doing nothing together, are the best.

They’ve been kissing languidly on the couch for an hour or so, pretending to watch whatever it is on screen. Honestly Alec can’t even remember what it was supposed to be. There’s no rush and no endgoal. He’s just so damn happy and grateful to be with his husband; the love of his life.

The pair are interrupted when Alec’s phone rings. He separates himself from Magnus, Magnus letting out a slight displeased sound when he does so. Alec takes a look at the caller ID. It’s his mom. He wonders what she could want at this time of night.

"Alec. It's time." Alec's body immediately goes tense at those words. He thought he’d have more time.

"Wha-wait, now?"

"Now. You know what to do." Maryse clicks off the phone.

Alec takes a deep breath in, and then slowly lets it out. His body relaxes, and his mind goes cold. Alec takes a step back, and the _Other_ creeps forward; not quite all the way, but more awake than it’s been in almost four decades.

Magnus knows his Alexander almost as well as he knows himself by now, so he notices immediately that something’s changed. Something’s different, wrong.

"Alexander, what's wrong?" He asks, worried.

"Nothing, don't worry. It's just my mother. She needs me for something. I've got to go."

"Darling, stay for just one more drink?" Magnus asks, quoting himself from that night long ago. The night he quietly considers to be their real first date. He doesn’t really believe that there’s nothing wrong with his Alexander. But his husband’s voice isn’t panicked despite the tension in his body, so it can’t be too urgent. He isn’t that bothered either about Alec lying to him. He knows his husband will eventually come to him with whatever is bothering him later, when he’s ready.

Alexander smiles back at him, but it doesn’t feel as warm as Alexander’s smiles to him usually are. Magnus ignores the thought.

"Sure, Magnus. Let me make something. It'll be a surprise." Alec gets up and heads to the small bar in the corner of the living room, pulling out several bottles from the cabinet beside it.

Magnus chuckles to himself. Occasionally, his husband gets into his head that he could be a bartender. Alexander's creations usually turn out quite disastrous. But they're always strong, and he doesn't mind indulging Alexander this if it makes him happy. Magnus lies back on the couch, his eyes closed, content to wait.

When Alec returns, it’s with two champagne flutes of a ridiculously pink, glittery drink.

"Aduh, I hope you remembered to use the edible glitter this time say." Magnus says as he takes one of the flutes. He senses a bit of magic in the concoction, but doesn’t recognize it. Maybe Alexander’s been messing with Seelie liquors again.

“Shut up,” Alec pouts, making a mock offended gesture. He takes a sip from his own flute. Magnus chuckles, rolling his eyes and attends to his own drink.

"Huh, this is actually pretty good." Magnus licks his lips. There’s definitely something extra in it. It’s sweet, but not too sweet, and the alcohol is extremely strong but not overwhelming. There’s a hint of sourness that might be lemon zest, and an odd little buzzing sensation that’s akin to drinking liquid electricity.

"No need to sound so surprised," Alec scoffs, "You know I've been practicing. After all, I hear you like to drink."

Magnus' eyes widen at that comment, eyes accusing. But his darling’s got that cute smirk on his face, and his own smile softens. He knows Alexander doesn’t mean anything by it, and their relationship nowadays with Maryse is great, so the comment doesn’t bring up any bad memories.

"I'll drink to that," Magnus responds instead. They both laugh, and Alexander reaches over to intertwine their free hands.

They talk a little while longer, Magnus finishing his drink a lot quicker than he’d have liked. It’s absolutely delicious, and he wishes he could have made it last, if only to make Alexander stay just a little bit longer.

"Wow that's a strong drink. What did you even put in it, say?" He’s just now realizing how tipsy he is, bordering on drunk. But not… quite, the sensation is a little bit different. He doesn’t feel like the world is blurry or moving too fast, like he usually does when he’s had just one drink too many. Instead, it feels as if he can feel the buzz from all the sounds throughout New York, right under his skin. It’s like he can feel the Earth turn around its own axis; the way the Earth rotates around the sun.

Magnus tips his head up to smile at his husband, only to find that Alexander himself isn't smiling anymore. His face is as cold and closed off and serious as he's ever seen it. An expression he hadn’t seen on his husband’s face, at least not directed at him, in over a decade.

"I'm so sorry, Magnus."

_Oh._ He thinks.

 _It's time._ The Earth turns once more and darkens.

\--//--

Magnus wakes to the smell of sulphur, iron, and some kind of spicy herb he can't quite name. He's surprised to find himself upright, but realizes that he's tied with his hands behind him to a metal pole.

“You have done well this cycle, my Eldest. The strength of his magic, and the depth of his love for you, will add greatly to the ritual. More potent than we’ve had in millennia. It may sustain us for a century or more this time, instead of mere decades.” It’s Maryse’s voice. But lacking any emotion at all. It’s unsettling, since Maryse’s voice has always been so expressive. There is none of the contemptuous hatred he’d known from her fromthe first stages of his relationship with Alexander, and none of the tender way she spoke to him most recently. It was just… empty.

“Thank you, Mother. Let us get the others.” Alexander’s voice rings through the night, just as empty as his mother’s. It sends cold chills down his spine.

Magnus’s heart beats so hard he can feel the vibrations in the magic-binding rope securing him to the pole. _It’s time. It’s time. It’s time._ He thinks. His breaths come short, and he’s terrified. More terrified than he’s ever been in his entire, long, long, life. More than even when he was stuck in Valentine’s body. Then, he still had hope. But he’d always known this day would come. And he’d always known he wouldn’t fight it.

“He’s awake.” Alexander voices again with that terrible inflectionless voice. Magnus can hear his familiar footsteps approaching. He forces his eyes open to meet his husband’s. They look upon him tenderly, just the same Alexander that he’s always been.

Alec tilts his face upwards towards him. “Shh, babe. Shh… I love you.” His voice is more familiar this time, full of the love they share. He strokes his thumb across Magnus’s cheek, wiping away the single tear that rolls down his face. Good thing his eyeliner was glamoured-on and waterproof, or he’d probably be a mess way sooner than need be.

Alec turns to go, but Magnus stops him with a cry.

“Please, Alexander. Cinta, darling. Please, don’t leave me.”

“I’ve got to go and set up the others, alright? But I promise, I’ll come back soon.” Magnus tries his best to nod through his reluctance, but the small movement is indescribably difficult to pull off. Alec throws him one last soft look, a sad smile upon his lips before he goes.

Magnus turns around. He can see three other metal poles around him; two to his left, and one to his right. On his left he can see Jace already tied to the post. On his left there’s Simon, with last pole still empty. 

His eyes meet Jace’s mismatched ones. Jace’s face is determined expression on, not afraid in the slightest. He has absolutely no idea what’s about to happen. He screams at Alec, at Maryse.

“Alec! Alec! What are you doing come on. Let me go! Let me go! This isn’t funny anymore! Mom, mom!” He’s struggling furiously in his bonds, and Magnus can see that his fingers are beginning to turn purple where Jace had cut off his own blood supply. And yet he struggles, uncomprehending. Blind.

They ignore him and leave. It gives Magnus time to look around and assess his surroundings. They’re surrounded by trees on all sides, trees that don’t look quite right. The branches are gnarled and twisted, and he has the unsettling feeling that as soon as he takes his eyes off them, they’d strike out with their claw-like branches.. The leaves are a dark purplish blue in color, like the colour of the night sky on starry nights. The grass in the clearing is blackened and dead, but he can see them flourishing beyond the treeline. The air smells like wilting flowers, sickly sweet but just a bit _off._

They’re definitely not in New York anymore. How they ever got into a forest in just a few short hours all the way from New York he will never know. He can’t feel their location with his magic either. It’s partially because his magic is currently being blocked, but he thinks that even if it wasn’t he wouldn’t be able to tell either. The place holds a certain odd, unsettling aura. As if it was not quite real. Like the world as it is inside a mirror, or a photograph.

A little while later, Alec and Maryse return with Izzy and Max in tow. They’ve got an unconscious Robert Lightwood being dragged along between Izzy and Alec. Max follows behind the odd little procession, the same empty look on his face as on all the others. They fasten Robert to the fourth pole quickly before splitting up.

At this point, Simon has woken up as well.

“What’s going on! Someone please tell me what’s going on. Izzy? Izzy please, let me go! What’s happening?” Izzy walks up to him and looks at him softly, placing a single kiss on his lips. Simon drinks in the taste of her hungrily, terrified. Desperate for a taste of comfort and familiarity.

After a few moments, Izzy finally walks away from him. The four creatures, for they no longer seem human anymore, stand in seemingly pre-assigned places in front of the poles. Alexander’s standing only a few feet in front of him, with each of the others paired up as well; Maryse in front of Jace, Izzy in front of Simon, and Max in front of Robert. Robert’s still unconscious, but it doesn’t seem to matter to the four in front of them.

Maryse rings a large bell, and they begin to chant. It’s not in any language that Magnus has ever heard before. It’s not demonic, and not angelic. The syllables don’t even seem possible for the human ear to sense. And yet it is. The tension builds and builds. Jace and Simon are still yelling, trying to snap their loved ones out of what they think is some sort of spell.

Magnus stays quiet. He knows what this is. Jace looks over and begins yelling at him next, asking him why he’s just given up. Why he’s not trying to do anything about this. But he doesn’t really pay Jace any attention. All of that won’t be important in a few minutes anyway. The four are not possessed. They’re _other._

The chanting builds and builds and builds. The ritual magic that accompanies it grows so loud the air grows thick and heavy with it. It becomes hard to breathe, and Magnus’s eardrums feel like they’re about to pop from the increase in air pressure.

And then, abruptly, it stops.

A deafening crack of thunder splits the night air. And with it comes the light. And with the light comes pain.

Magnus’s body is made up of exposed, raw nerves. The fire licks at his skin, far more intense than the fires that pulled him down to Edom. He screams and screams as much as he can, voice going hoarse fast. His throat spasms over deep inhales of smoke; soot risen from his own incinerated hair, clothes, and skin cells.

Almost as bad as the pain is the smell and sounds that accompany it. The smell of his own flesh burning is thick in the air, mixing with the ever-present smell of dying flowers. He hears himself and his fellow sacrifices scream, like dying animals. He doesn’t recognize himself in the sounds that come out of his own throat.

It goes on, forever and ever. If it wasn’t a magical fire, Magnus knows he would have passed out from smoke inhalation, if not the pain, in mere minutes. But no, this fire is meant to keep him awake and aware, if not necessarily lucid. The pain is so intense he feels his mind begin to crack. If he’s crying, he doesn’t know for the heat takes them away as soon as they leak out from his eyes.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Magnus begins to feel his thoughts creeping back to him. He doesn’t know how. Whether his body’s beginning to finally adjust to the levels of pain, or whether most of the pain receptors in his skin have finally burnt off and irreparably damaged. His eyes are somehow still functional, and he looks around. Maryse, Izzy, and Max are nowhere to be seen. Jace and Robert have gone quiet, but Simon is still screaming, yelling at Alec to help them. Yelling for Izzy to come back. Magnus knows, though, that aside from the seemingly half-sentient trees, no other living creatures inhabit this land.

But Alec is still here, watching. He’s sat on a log to his right, holding Magnus’s left hand. That’s when he realized that the magic-binding ropes that tied his hands behind his back have burnt off. He tries to move but realizes he can’t. The skin of his back had melted, gluing him to the metal pole behind him. That, and the magic of the ritual fire, keeps him firmly in place.

He feels himself trying to tear up again. But the fire takes it away.

“A-Alex-ander.” He croaks out. He honestly does not understand how his eyes and vocal chords are still functional. He thought that they’d have burnt off by now.

His dear Alexander looks up at him, eyes tender. He’s stroking Magnus’s blackened hand, thumb caressing his wedding ring.

“Don’t… don’t leave me, please.” Magnus begs. He’s scared and in pain, and desperate.

Alexander doesn’t reply, merely leans down to place a soft kiss on his charred hand. The skin sticks to his lips, coming off as he lifts his head back up. Alexander doesn’t seem all that affected by this, merely wipes at his face with a sleeve. The pieces of Magnus’s skin sticks to the sleeve of Alec’s sweater. Magnus suddenly realizes that the skin on the palm of his hand is similarly gone, stuck to the sides of Alexander’s jeans. He must have wiped his hands off on them, the first time he took hold of Magnus’s hand.

He can’t help but sick up on himself, then. The smell of burning vomit is unbearable and adds to his nausea. He heaves and heaves and heaves until there’s nothing left, not even bile. His throat burns just as much as his skin does now, and he coughs several times. The taste of soot, vomit, and bile clinging to his throat no matter how much he tries to spit.

Not long after, he feels his lungs give out. The fire has finally reached past his chest and abdominal muscles. He can’t breathe, and his muscles no longer work. He feels the fire lapping at his teeth and gums with nothing left to protect them. His eyelids are gone, and he knows he’ll soon lose his sight as well.

Alexander stands up, and places his hands on Magnus’s cheek, lifting his eyes to look up at him one final time. He brushes a thumb under one eye, and Magnus feels more than hears the horrifying scraping of his husband’s blunt nails on his cheekbone. But his eyes are still tender when he looks upon Magnus, and Magnus can’t help but want to cry again.

“You are still so beautiful, even now.” Alexander says, voice barely more than a breath.

Alexander’s hand is fully inside the fire, and Magnus can see it begin to burn as well. But the man’s face does not show any indication that he feels any of it. Magnus is aware, but no longer able to respond, his tongue having become nothing more but dust and heavy, charred flesh. He just stares back at Alec, gaining whatever comfort he can from those loving, yet now alien and distant gaze.

Alec sits back down, and is silent.

Eventually, Magnus loses his sight. Then his hearing, and his sense of smell. He can’t tell anything much anymore, only that the pain now consumes what feels like bare bones. There’s really not much of him left. He can’t feel the heat, just pain.

\--//--

Hours later, with the rise of the sun, the fire finally begins to dim, taking with it the last of Magnus’s awareness. All that’s left of him are charred bones. The ritual is complete.

What was once Alexander Lightwood stands up from the log he’d been sitting on all night, stretching and cracking his back. He’s sore from an entire night of sitting, hunched over himself. His mother and siblings had gone off to have one last night of fun before they depart, but he’d been unwilling to leave, not until Magnus’s mind truly dims.

He bends down towards the ground where Magnus’s bones have fallen into a pile, having nothing left to hold them together, and sifts through it to find Magnus’s wedding band. It’s fused to the finger bone, but miraculously, some of the design is still intact. He puts the whole thing into his pocket, deciding to keep it as a memento. Maybe he can wear it around his neck or something, in his next life. Paint it over with something so he can disguise it as something other than what it is.

He turns to go, the last of his business on this plane over and done with. 

He doesn’t get further than 20 metres or so before the urge to look back overwhelms him. He stares at the pile of bones that was once Magnus Bane, husband of one Alexander Lightwood, immortal High Warlock of Alicante. His skull gleams black in the moonlight, seeming to glitter just a little.

The Eldest, the _other,_ he’s curious. _This one,_ he thinks, _he’s special. Perhaps…_

Perhaps he could take him with. An additional companion, just this once. Why not? The warlock intrigues him. He’d seemed resigned, knowing, right from the beginning. He didn’t beg, plead, or struggle. The Eldest knew that even if Magnus had struggled with all his magic, the ritual set in motion, in addition to the magic around this place, would not have let him go. But Magnus hadn’t even tried. He’s never had anyone that devoted to him before, and suspects never again. And Alexander had been just as devoted in return. Even in this _other_ mindset, he must admit he isn’t completely unaffected.

He walks back towards the pile, and gathers up all of his lover’s bones. Mother won’t be happy that he’d unilaterally decided to add another member to their Family. But well… if the worst comes to pass, he knows he’ll be fine. He doesn’t need her anymore, haven’t in a long while. He knows he’ll be able to take care of Daughter and Youngest by himself if need be. It might be time for the Family to undergo new leadership. 

He walks towards their rendezvous point in the sacred woods, skin beginning to slough away in preparation to accept a different form. A small, self-satisfied smile graces his lips. He knows it might take decades or even centuries, but eventually another one of them would emerge into the world. A new addition to the Family. Perhaps he’d call him Husband.

**Author's Note:**

> Say - Short for "Sayang" which means the same as Darling in Indonesian.  
> Aduh - Damnit-equivalent. 
> 
> Alec is 100% Alec when he's Alec. In a way, he never really deceived Magnus. But he's been Eldest for a much longer time, millennia. The Other has loved and lost so many times that he's essentially numb. 
> 
> The Family doesn't really have any names other than Eldest, Youngest, Mother, and Daughter since they take on new names every cycle. And they're not truly related in that way. So e.g. if Alec replaces Maryse he'll become Father, Izzy would be Daughter and Max would be Son. 
> 
> Alexander doesn't completely disappear until Magnus is truly gone. 
> 
> If any of this was unclear I apologize. 
> 
> And I apologize for this entire thing in general.


End file.
